He shoots Emmett a scowl, but there’s no venom in it. In fact, it only makes his grandson’s lips twitch.
I scrunch my nose, trying not to think about my own dad. Would we have a relationship like theirs? He died when I was young, so part of me has always felt like his memory is just out of grasp. The image of him in my head feels like looking through water. I can look at photos of him, but in many ways I don’t really recognize him.
I don’t remember his smell. I wish I remembered his smell.
“Definitely,” I say, with a slight hitch in my voice. “You give me the lay of the land, and I’ll do my best to keep the clowns out of your yard once the circus descends.”
The older man snorts at that. “Oh, girl, there are always clowns in my yard. Have you met Emmett’s siblings?”
My cheeks tug up in a smile. “I have not. I’ve only met Emmett—as I’m sure you know, my brother is also touring on the WBRF circuit. Like my dad did. We grew up just in town, on an orchard down by the lake.”
“Oh!” Tina pipes up. “That Theo Silva boy is your brother?”
I almost choke at her use of boy again. Theo is a full-fledged adult now, but he has been known to act like a little boy more often than he should as well.
“Yes, that’s him.”
“What a small world.” She slaps her hands against her thighs as she pushes to stand. “Will you please give him our congratulations on his championship? I know Emmett is always raving about how talented he is. It sounds very deserved.”
My head whips in Emmett’s direction, brows plastered high on my forehead.
His tongue swirls against the inside of his cheek as he breathes in through his nose, avoiding my searching gaze by staring at the wood-paneled ceiling.
I look up, too, wondering if that’s the direction his bad-boy persona has evaporated to.
“Great, Opa? Shall we go then?” Emmett’s chin drops right as he changes the topic of conversation.
“This way,” Leon says, moving toward the door and waving us along, clearly not the small-talker of the bunch.
I follow with a polite smile and nod toward Tina. “Thank you for hosting me. The cookies were delicious.”
She beams, and it’s infectious. She is pure sunshine, and I can’t help but smile back even bigger. I hit Emmett with my wide grin as I move past him and announce, “And I will certainly pass your congratulations on to my brother. He will be thrilled to hear that there is so much love for him in this valley.”
I peek back at her, but Emmett quickly envelops my line of vision as he falls into step behind me and ushers me from the room.
His arm stretches out behind me, and I can feel the heat of his hand at the small of my back. But he doesn’t touch me.
He leans in as we step out of the sunny, sunken kitchen and up into the main part of the old farmhouse. His breath fans across my nape as he whispers, “You will never tell your brother about that.”
I chuckle and tilt my head back in his direction, my gaze falling across his stern mouth. “Oh? The part about you being a big ol’ fan? I’m not making any promises because we’re already even on keeping secrets.”
His jaw locks before my eyes, but he doesn’t respond.
I frown and give him a consoling pat on the shoulder. “I know, I know. It’s a tough break for this special, wonderful boy.”
An exhausted sigh heaves his shoulder beneath my palm, and a thrill races down my spine at having gotten under his skin.
Then with a smug wink, I turn away and stride out of the house to do my job.
CHAPTER 7
Emmett
I’M STROLLING DOWN the gravel driveway toward the barn, minding my business, when I see her.
Julia Silva.
Every morning, I have to walk past this building that she’s prepping, and every morning she greets me with a happy hello. I wish there were another route to the barn, but there isn’t. I’ve considered driving, but parking is already tight enough with staff. And to be frank, driving a distance that takes me five minutes to walk is just lazy and bad for the environment.
So this is my new normal. Fucking everywhere I look. I swear the woman works twenty-four hours a day. Some sort of overachieving keener.
Just like her brother.
Irritating.
Nearly as irritating as watching her struggle with bags of dirt the size of her body with no one to help her.
She grins as I approach, the plastic seam of the bag dragging across her chin as she turns to look my way. “Good morning!”
My brow furrows. She sounds chipper. Just as chipper as Oma when she talks about how lovely Julia is.
Which makes me wonder if she’s mocking me.
This must be a cosmic joke that everyone is in on. I’m just trudging around, putting in long days on the farm, waiting for the next shoe to drop, and they’re all laughing at me.
Ha ha, look at Emmett having to face his annoying rival’s little sister every day while preparing to do the dumbest thing he’s ever done.
Sure, everyone on staff has signed NDAs. Hell, I’m not even allowed to publicly date anyone else until this farce airs—over a year from now.
I can’t even put my finger on why I’m so agitated by her presence. If she spills this secret to her brother and all the other guys on tour, then she does it—I’ll survive by crying into my piles of money for having done the show.
“Morning,” I grumble back, sounding more surly than I intend.
She turns away, dropping the bag with a loud “Oof” on the ground near a wine barrel that’s been cut in half. Then she turns back to her car, drawing my gaze with her as she goes. Which is when I notice the trunk of the small, white Subaru loaded to the roof with bags of dirt. I can’t even see through the windows, which means I have no idea how she managed to drive safely.
“What are you doing?”
“Moving bags of soil from my car to these planters,” she replies simply, while pointing at the barrels.
She says it as if I’m the idiot.
“Your car is full to the brim, Julia. How did you even check your rearview mirror with all that in there?”
“Oh, it’s very simple.” She dusts her hands off on a pair of shorts while turning to face me. “I didn’t.”
The muscle in my jaw ticks as I imagine her driving down the highway through Emerald Lake. The road is busy with international tourists and out-of-town summer yuppies who have no idea where they’re going.
She’s already heaving another bag out of her car when I get around to talking again. “You know you can order a load of soil and they just deliver it, right?”
Julia looks back up at me with mock alarm on her face. “You can?”
I cross my arms. “Is this going to be how the next couple of months play out between us, Julia?”